


It's Not Perfect, But It Feels Like Home

by mothmerchant



Series: Little!Jon AU [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Autistic Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Caregiver Martin Blackwood, Caregiver Sasha James, Caregiver Tim Stoker, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feeding, Little Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, Nonverbal Communication, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 01, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, agere, not super important but it's there, so many cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-20 14:08:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmerchant/pseuds/mothmerchant
Summary: Jon looks tired, that didn't come as a surprise. Though it wasn't like his usual exhaustion. It was a soft, gentle sort of sleepiness. That isn't what catches Martin's eye though. Martin's focused on how Jon is doodling away on a piece of paper on his desk, while the thumb of his free hand is tucked securely into his mouth. Jon's gently kicking his legs, which dangle a few centimeters from the floor, underneath his desk. Despite his curiosity, he decides it's best not to mention the odd behavior.ORSometimes, Jon regresses. Martin doesn't know this, but he's happy to take care of him anyway.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Little!Jon AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210439
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	It's Not Perfect, But It Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unfortunately necessary reminder that age regression is NOT a kink. It's a coping mechanism and should be treated as such. If you're looking for ageplay, this isn't it. Gross comments will be deleted.

Martin sighs upon seeing the small sliver of light peaking out from underneath the door to Jon's office. In the time he has spent living in the Archives, there were rarely any nights where Jon didn't stay ridiculously late. Martin had talked to him about it, practically begging him to start going home before midnight, and for a few days it had actually been working. But tonight, it was clear that Jon was still in his office.

He couldn't really be mad at Jon for staying so late. It felt wrong to be angry at someone for such a thing. So, Martin approaches the door with a look more akin to disappointment than anything close to anger. He opens the door, ready to gently scold Jon into going home, when he freezes in the doorway.

Whatever Martin had been expecting, it wasn't this.

Jon looks tired, that didn't come as a surprise. Though it isn't like his usual exhaustion. It's a soft, gentle sort of sleepiness. That isn't what catches Martin's eye though. Martin's focused on how Jon is doodling away on a piece of paper on his desk, while the thumb of his free hand is tucked securely into his mouth. Jon's gently kicking his legs, which dangle a few centimeters from the floor, underneath his desk. Despite his curiosity, he decides it's best not to mention the odd behavior.

"Um, Jon, you should really-"

Martin barely gets a few words out before Jon has jumped out of his chair so quickly that Martin's worried he may hurt himself. Jon quickly scrambles underneath his desk and as the sounds of him shuffling dies down, the only sounds to be heard were small whimpers.

Martin approaches the desk slowly so as to not startle Jon anymore that he already has. A pang of sadness shoots through Martin at the small whimper that escapes Jon as he finally reaches the desk.

Martin kneels in front of the desk, and the sight of Jon makes his heart break.

Jon's curled up under his desk, and he somehow manages to curl up tighter when Martin reaches him. He looks so... small. His eyes are darting around, like he's desperately looking for an escape route, and for a moment Martin genuinely expects him to dart out of the office.

"Hey," Martin reaches towards Jon, who flinches at the outstretched hand. But still, he doesn't run. "It's okay. You're safe. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Martin can't begin to fathom why Jon would be this scared. He'd looked perfectly content moments before. But... why on earth would he be afraid of Martin?

Martin pushes all his questions to the back of his mind. He doesn't have time for them right now.

Jon unwinds himself, just a bit. His eyes stop darting, and finally settle on Martin. They're still wide with panic, but some of the fear seems to have subsided. Still, his breathing is rapid, and Martin knows being curled up like that isn't going to help.

Martin reaches a little closer, and to his relief Jon doesn't flinch. "C'mon, you need to get out from under there." With a small whine, Jon outstretches both arms to Martin, and after a bit of maneuvering is no longer crammed underneath his desk.

"There you are. Breathe with me, okay?"

For a few minutes, the two just sit on the floor as Martin helps Jon get his breathing back to normal. When he seems calm enough, Martin finally says what he came there to say. 

"You need to head home, Jon."

Jon shakes his head. He's got a strange expression, like an apologetic child. Like he wants to agree with Martin, but he just can't.

"No? Why not?" Martin is used to Jon refusing to go home when he's preoccupied with work, but that clearly wasn't what was stopping him. Jon hadn't even been working when Martin had found him in his office.

Jon huffs in frustration, not at Martin, but at himself. He makes a few small noises that Martin can't quite parse any meaning from, before giving his answer.

"Can't..." He says it like it's a struggle to get just the one word out. It's the first thing Martin's heard him say all night, and he can't help but notice how different Jon's voice sounds. It's strangely quiet, and the pitch is raised an octave or two. He sounds, well, like a child.

But that still didn't really answer anything. 

Still, Martin knew all too well how stubborn Jon could be. If he didn't want to go home, there was nothing Martin could do about it. At the very least, he could try to get him to sleep. 

"Right. Okay, uh. You can take the cot and I'll take the couch in the breakroom. That sound good?" Martin figures it's only fair to offer the cot to Jon. It _is_ technically his, after all.

But Jon pouts at this, which is _adorable_ , but also quite unhelpful. Why would Jon be unhappy with that arrangement?

"No? Um, okay, do you want the couch and I'll take the cot?" Martin couldn't imagine why Jon would want to sleep on the couch, but it was worth a shot.

Jon doesn't look particularly happy about that offer either.

"Well if you aren't going to go home, then you need to sleep somewhere." 

Jon blinks slowly, eyelids heavy with sleepiness. But beyond that, he gives no response.

Martin let's out an exasperated sigh, to which Jon responds with a small, sad whimper. He looks on the verge of apologizing, if he could speak that is.

Martin kicks himself internally. "No, no, I'm not upset with you. I just... I don't understand what you want."

Jon opens his arms, and Martin has to bite back another sigh. Still, he hugs Jon, because how could he not?

"I don't mind giving you a hug, Jon, but it doesn't really answer anything." Martin rubs Jon's back gently. "Where do you want to sleep?" He asks again.

Jon tightens his grip on Martin in response.

"That's not really an answer." Martin laughs quietly.

But to Martin's confusion, Jon seems frustrated by this. As if Martin should clearly know what he's trying to say. He tightens his hold once again and lets out a small huff.

Martin was starting to think maybe he got it. The Institute is, well, not exactly the coziest place at night. If he was being quite honest, it was creepy as hell. And given that Jon was clearly in some vulnerable headspace, there seemed to be a logical conclusion there.

"Do you... Want me to stay with you?" Martin asks slowly, almost scared to be wrong.

Jon nods, slow and with a vulnerable look in his eyes. And oh, that warms Martin's heart only to break it right after.

Jon has always looked a bit frail. He's almost certainly underweight and below average height, he is _small_. But vulnerable? No, that wasn't Jon.

Except... apparently it was, sometimes. Apparently, Jon was vulnerable enough to actually be scared to be alone in the Institute at night. Martin couldn't blame him there, he'd spent his own fair share of nights barely sleeping as the Institute's spooky atmosphere kept him up way past what was reasonable.

And that made it worse, didn't it? Jon stays late all the time, after all. How many times had he stayed at the Institute late, not wanting to go home but scared to be alone? Martin pulls Jon a little closer at that thought. Tonight, Jon wouldn't be alone, that was what mattered.

Martin opts for them to sleep on the breakroom couch. It might be the less comfortable option if only one person was sleeping on it, but it would be far easier to fit two people on it than the cot.

Still, there's no way they can both lay down without being on top of each other, and that's out of the question. So, Jon curls up between Martin and the arm of the couch.

Martin sighs at the arrangement. He's far too old to sleep sitting up on a shitty old couch and not feel the consequences, but for Jon, he'll put his back through a bit of suffering. Still, Jon seems content enough, and falls asleep after a few minutes.

Surprisingly, Martin finds that sleep creeps up on him quite quickly too. Far quicker than it has any other night he's spent in the Institute. Still, he doesn't fall asleep before thinking about everything that's happened in the last twenty minutes. He pushes those thoughts back. He needs to sleep.

Morning. They'll talk about this in the morning.

They don't.

__________________ 

Things are... different between Jon and Martin after that. Martin wouldn't go as far as to call them friends, but the animosity he had grown quite used to was rare now. Jon was, at the very least, relatively hospitable to him whenever they happened to be in a room together. And at the most, Jon had taken to spending lunches with the assistants more and more often. Martin of course knew this development clearly wasn't made for him, but it felt nice regardless. And while Martin wouldn't call them friends, he likes to think they're getting there.

So, when Martin blearily stumbles into the breakroom one early morning, he doesn't think much of Jon curled up on the old burgundy couch. He was familiar enough with Jon's habits to know sleeping at the Institute wasn't out of the ordinary. He'd even found himself a bit flustered at the thought that, technically, he and Jon lived together in a sort of roundabout way. He knew it was a silly thing to be flustered about, but when had it ever mattered if his feelings were silly or not?

It's only after Martin has a chance to start making his morning tea and blink the sleep from his eyes that he gets a closer look at Jon. He's curled up as small as can be, leaning against one of the arms of the couch. One thumb is resting loosely between his lips, and clutched to his chest is a plush of some sort. Martin can't quite tell what it is from this angle, but it's certainly a stuffed animal.

Martin isn't quite sure what to do. He's not sure if he _should do_ anything. He and Jon had never talked about what had happened a couple weeks ago, and Martin had at this point assumed it had been an odd symptom of Jon's sleep deprivation. But well, even if the old breakroom couch wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to sleep, Jon _was_ sleeping. Somehow, Martin had barely given consideration to the possibility that this was something that happened regularly.

Martin opts to focus on his tea, and maybe find something in the mini fridge for breakfast. His tea is a bit off, the water not actually having been boiled fully since Martin didn't want to risk waking Jon with the whistling of the kettle.

It's as he's rifling through the fridge that he hears Jon begin to stir awake, followed by a frankly adorable string of sleepy babbling. Martin turns to meet Jon's gaze and nearly melts on the spot.

Jon is looking up at him; Eyes still heavy with sleep, plushie still held close, his thumb now placed in his mouth more firmly, and his head slightly tilted in an act of childish curiosity. It's all Martin can do to not coo at the sight. Instead, he calmly strides over to Jon and kneels in front of him.

"Hi there." Martin doesn't _intentionally_ change his voice, but it just feels natural to talk to Jon like one might talk to a small child. Briefly, Martin worries he might come across as condescending. But Jon just smiles and babbles happily.

"Who's this?" Martin asks, pointing at the plush in Jon's hands.

Jon holds out the plush, a small blue frog. Despite it looking a bit silly, the frog is wearing something akin to a collar, and on it is a fabric nametag that reads "Peep".

Martin smiles, and Jon quickly mirrors it. "It's very nice to meet you, Peep." Martin grasps one of the stubby arms of the frog and shakes it gently. Jon giggles at this, and _oh, that's lovely._

Martin's heard Jon laugh before, as rare as it can be. When Jon laughs, there's always a stiffness to it, like he isn't quite sure that's what he should be doing. But this? This is different. This is so relaxed and genuine and oh so _precious._ And it's because of Martin.

Martin stands, still intent on finding something suitable for breakfast. But as he goes to move, Jon makes a small whining sound, and Martin looks down to find him making grabby hands up at him. Well how the hell was Martin supposed to say no to that? Breakfast could wait just a little bit longer, he supposed.

Martin takes a seat next to Jon, who shyly leans his head against Martin's shoulder. With his legs drawn to his chest and his significantly smaller size than Martin, Jon look absolutely tiny next to him. His behavior, in some odd way, manages to make him look even smaller. Martin can't push down the urge to protect him, to keep him safe from anyone or anything that dares to try to hurt him when he's vulnerable like this. He wants to scoop Jon into his lap and hold him to his chest and keep him safe from the world as best he can. But instead, he looks down at Jon and smiles in reassurance that this is okay. Whatever this is, Martin is happy to be a part of it if Jon will let him.

__________________ 

Martin sighs when he sees Jon come into the breakroom to make _coffee_ right before lunch, rather than waiting for tea. It might've seemed insignificant, but Martin was familiar enough with Jon to know he only went for coffee when stressed. Martin just ignores him, knowing it's the best way to avoid confrontation.

As Martin hears the sound of ceramic shattering on the linoleum floor of the breakroom, all he can do is screw his eyes shut and brace himself. Jon is surely going to take his frustration out on something, and as Martin is the only person in the room, he's almost certain it'll be him.

It's this certainty that leaves him utterly confused when all he hears is a small sob.

Martin opens his eyes and finally looks to Jon. He's staring and the broken mug on the floor, unmoving. Martin notes that his expression is an amalgamation of something between frustration and pure defeat, with tears slowly streaming down his cheeks. He looks almost like a child desperately trying to hold back a tantrum.

"Jon?" Martin says, barely above a whisper.

Something about this breaks Jon, as he stumbles over to Martin and begins sobbing against his chest. 

Martin doesn't hesitate in hugging Jon. He rests a soothing hand on Jon's back, cooing softly and mumbling comforting words.

To Martin's relief, it doesn't take long for Jon to calm down. Soon, Jon's meltdown is reduced to small sniffles and whimpers. Martin guides him to the couch and takes a seat beside him.

"Bad day?" Martin asks, but he already knows the answer. Tensions have been high among the archive staff lately, and Martin's honestly surprised something like this didn't happen sooner.

Jon nods. He whimpers slightly, the last remnants of his breakdown still filtering out quietly.

Martin coos sympathetically. "I know, honey." Neither of them flinch at the nickname, though Martin has no idea where he found the courage to say it. "It's been tough recently, yeah?"

Jon offers another nod and snuggles a little closer. Martin is a bit surprised when his own shoulders relax. He supposed the relief that Jon wasn't going to yell at him would be pretty relaxing.

Except, no, that's not it. Martin can't pinpoint what it is, but something about seeing Jon like this is relaxing, and not just because there's no risk of him getting mad for some inane reason. It's just... nice.

As the last of Jon's sniffles seem to come to an end, his stomach makes a low rumbling noise, to which he whines a bit. 

"Oh. You must be hungry, yeah?" 

Jon nods, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

Martin is thankful that Tim and Sasha are out on one of their extra long lunch breaks they take every Friday. Given past experiences, Martin takes it that Jon wouldn't respond well to them seeing him like this. He'll have plenty of time to get Jon fed and back to his office before anyone can see him.

"Let's get you something to drink first, yeah? That's why came in here after all." Jon smiles at this, which Martin will happily accept as a sign that he's doing a good job.

Martin quickly decides against giving Jon any tea, and the coffee he had come to the breakroom for was out of the question. Something about giving Jon a hot drink while he's like this seems like a bad idea. Instead, he grabs some milk from the fridge and pours it into a mug, then mixes in a small bit of honey.

Martin holds the mug full of milk out to Jon, but he makes no move to take it. In fact, he shakes his head emphatically.

"Are you worried you'll drop it?" Martin asked gently. Jon nods. With that, Martin has begun rifling through the cabinets, and finally pulls out a light blue thermos. It's one of those small ones with the caps that pop up to reveal a straw attached. He's not _entirely sure_ why it's here, but it's finally going to be put to use. Martin quickly cleans it out and transfers the milk to from the mug, the screws the lid on tight and holds it out to Jon. He still looks hesitant. Martin kneels down so that he's level with Jon. 

"It won't break, see?" Then Martin drops the thermos as a demonstration. "And you won't have to worry about spilling anything." He adds as he picks it back up.

This seems to be enough to convince Jon as Martin holds it out to him again. He takes the thermos, presses the little button, and begins to sip the milk. Martin stands again, watching Jon with a strange sense of pride.

As Martin goes back over to the kitchenette to begin preparing his lunch, he notices that Jon hadn't brought his own lunch into the breakroom. This wasn't odd, exactly. Jon had a tendency to eat in his office before he started joining the others for lunch, and given his recent mood, it wouldn't be all too surprising if he had just come to the breakroom to get coffee and leave to eat in his office. 

"Jon? Is your lunch in your office? I can go get it for you if you'd like." Martin offers, his voice soft. Jon shakes his head.

"Where is it then? I didn't see it in the fridge." Martin tilts his head as he asks. Jon just shakes his head again. Martin furrows his brow in confusion.

"You did bring lunch, right?" 

Jon shakes his head, a bit slower this time, like he expects Martin to be upset with his answer.

"Jon..." Martin says, and he doesn't sound happy. But, Jon supposes, he doesn't sound mad or annoyed or disappointed like he expected. Just... concerned.

Martin's going through the cupboards again, trying to find something suitable. 

_Mac and cheese._ Martin glances back at Jon, who has taken to sucking his thumb and staring at him. _Yeah, that'll do._

Martin prepares both his and Jon's lunch as quickly as he can. He places the food on the center table, and with only a bit of resistance from Jon, they both take a seat.

Jon raises the food to his mouth shakily, only to drop the spoon altogether. He whimpers. "M'sorry!" 

Martin grabs the spoon and wipes it off. "That's alright. D'you want some help?" 

Jon pouts, but doesn't fight when Martin holds a spoonful of food up to him. He eagerly takes the spoon into his mouth.

"Good boy!" Martin praises, making Jon's face light up. He flaps his hands and awaits the next bite.

Martin keeps feeding him, and occasionally takes a bite of his own lunch when he's not completely enamored by Jon. Jon's only emptied about half of the bowl when he starts to shake his head as Martin attempts to feed him another bite.

"Are you full?" Jon nods. Martin sighs quietly. He knows Jon doesn't exactly have the biggest appetite, but he at least expected him to finish this. Oh well, not much he can do.

He washes the bowl and spoon and quickly returns to Jon, who has returned to being curled up on the couch. He blinks up at Martin slowly.

Martin sighs. Tim and Sasha would be back soon, and as much as he would love to take care of Jon all day, he knew it was a fruitless desire.

"We need to get you back to your office, okay?"

Jon pouts, but doesn't argue. He holds his arms out, silently beckoning as he looks up at Martin.

"Up! Up!" Jon shouts.

"Awww." Martin quickly picks Jon up. It's almost too easy to do, and Martin makes a mental note to try to get Jon to eat more.

Martin carries Jon back to his office quickly. As he sets Jon down, he's hesitant to leave. Jon is still vulnerable, so small and weak. He doesn't _want_ to leave, but...

Jon clings to Martin's arm, wrapping both his arms around it. He looks so, _so_ sad, like he knows Martin is thinking about leaving.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Jon nods slowly, blinking tears from his eyes.

 _Fuck_ , how can he say no to that?

Martin nods and lowers his voice to a dramatic whisper. "Alright. If anyone asks, you needed my assistance on something." He gives Jon a little mischievous wink.

Jon giggles, warm and happy and contagious. Martin has no choice to join in on the laughter. 

As their laughter dies down, Jon guides Martin to the chair at his desk, giving him a little nudge to sit down.

"What're you doing?" He questions, but Jon doesn't answer. Instead, he quickly climbs onto Martin's lap and curls up. He hums constantly as he nuzzles again Martins chest.

"Oh." Martin's mildly shocked, to put it lightly. Still, he wraps his arms around Jon and holds him close.

"Feeling sleepy?"

Jon nods against him slowly, and Martin has no choice but to audibly coo at just how cute Jon's being.

Pretty soon, Tim and Sasha will be back, and it probably won't take long for them to come looking for Martin. But for now, he will stay here with Jon, and keep him safe the best he can.

__________________ 

Jon's just sort of... Standing there, silently looking towards Martin from the doorway of his office, an arm behind his back.

"Um... Hello Jon?" Martin says, mildly confused.

Upon actually being acknowledged, Jon seems flustered. He covers his face with the arm not behind his back and mumbles something.

"Oh." Martin catches on. "Hi there, little one." He greets.

Jon freezes for a moment, lowering his arm. Then, a joyous smile spreads across his cheeks, as he giggles and flaps his free hand excitedly, the other arm now revealed to be holding Peep.

"Oh. D'you like that?" Martin asks, finding Jon's joy to be contagious as his own smile widens. Jon nods vigorously.

Martin chuckles. "Would you like to sit over here with me?" He asks. Jon nods and rushes over to him, before clambering into his lap. 

"Oh! Careful, careful-" Martin holds onto Jon, trying to keep him steady as he gets comfortable. Martin's chair is hardly made for two people, but Jon is so small he supposes it won't make a difference. Jon finally settles, face buried in Martin's jumper, babbling contentedly.

"I'm gonna get back to work. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Martin wraps one arm around Jon and moves the other back to his computer. Subconsciously, he rocks Jon back and forth.

Martin briefly worries about Tim and Sasha seeing them. He had to assume they didn't know about this. Surely if they did, Jon wouldn't always come to Martin. But he doesn't focus on it. Tim and Sasha are both out, and according to Tim, shouldn't be back until around lunch. Which means Martin has at least two hours to spend with his baby.

He isn't entirely sure when he started thinking of Jon as _his_ baby. Martin just kept finding Jon like this, and Jon didn't seem to mind. But that didn't make Jon his baby.

Except... Jon had come to him this time. Martin's chest tightens a bit at the flood of emotions that flows through him at that thought. Jon wasn't his baby, but maybe he could be...

It doesn't take long for Martin to abandon his work in favor of looking after Jon.

When Tim freezes in the doorway, Sasha almost instinctively begins berating him as she knocks into him. We she sees just what he's staring at though, she freezes just the same.

There was Jon, curled up in Martin's lap, a thumb between his lips and the other arm clutching a plush frog. His expression is more relaxed than either of them have ever seen, and it's clear he's sleeping. The dark circles under his eyes somehow look just a bit lighter. One of Martin's arms is wrapped around him, keeping him steady. Martin, too, looks relaxed. His expression is soft, eyes half-lidded and filled with adoration as he looks down at Jon, work clearly left neglected on his desk. His smile is gentle, the sort of smile that comes with a small but constant sort of happiness, like warmth seeping into your bones as you lay in a patch of sunlight.

Tim and Sasha glance at each other, unsure of what to do. It's abundantly clear that this isn't something they were meant to see. It just feels like a private moment, something that was supposed to be hidden.

They could leave, quite easily in fact. Martin, by the miracle of being absolutely enamored with Jon in this moment, hadn't even noticed them. But somehow that felt wrong, like they'd invaded on their privacy and just intended on keeping ot a secret.

Sasha is the one to speak up.

"Um, Martin-"

Martin looks up, eyes wide and cheeks already reddened, but holds a finger up to his lips in a silent request for them to be quiet. Despite this, Jon begins to stir, babbling and rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. He blinks up at Martin, humming inquisitively.

Martin's panic must be clear, because Jon soon looks around the room and quickly meets the eyes of Tim and Sasha.

Martin expects Jon to bolt. Reluctantly, he loosens his grip on him so if he does, Jon at least won't hurt himself trying to get away from him.

Instead, while his panic is still very much apparent, Jon clutches onto Martin's jumper and hides his face against his chest. He shakes with small sobs that break Martin's heart, but a small part of him is glad that Jon didn't run. Jon didn't have to be scared by himself.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay." Martin mumbles. 

Given their current positions, Martin is able to hold Jon up as he stands with surprising ease. Jon seems to reflexively wrap his legs around Martin, who wheezes for a moment at the shockingly tight grip. Had Jon not been so upset, Tim would've made a comment about him resembling a koala.

Martin sighs. "We just need a minute, okay? I promise we'll explain things, just..."

"It's alright, Martin." Sasha reassures. "You don't have to explain anything if you don't want to." Tim nods.

"Not me I'm worried about..." Martin mumbles, but he quickly shoots them a small smile before carrying Jon into the breakroom.

Martin settles on the breakroom couch, Jon in his lap and still cuddled closely. He went through the usual motions of calming Jon. A few soft murmurings and reassurances and a bit of gentle rocking later, and Jon was calm enough to pull away and actually look at Martin.

"There you are." Martin tucks a strand of hair behind Jon's ear. "Feeling better?"

Jon responds with a small whine and a tightened grip.

"Oh, I know honey..." Martin moves his hand down Jon's back, fingers caressing the bumps of his spine. 

Martin wants to convince Jon that he should tell Tim and Sasha what's going on. But, well, Jon still hasn't actually told Martin what this is. And Jon can't talk like this, not enough to get even remotely close to explaining something. Still, Tim and Sasha deserve an answer of some sort.

"Jon? I think Tim and Sasha will probably want to know what's going on." 

Jon whines, but doesn't argue, his way of agreeing on something he isn't particularly happy about.

"I'll explain it to them the best I can, okay?" Martin doesn't know how well he'll be able to explain it, but it's better than leaving Jon to do it himself. Jon nods.

"Okay." Martin maneuves Jon off of his lap and into his favorite spot on the couch. Quickly, he steps out, and shortly returns with Tim and Sasha.

Tim and Sasha both grab chairs from the table, whereas Martin takes a seat next to Jon. Jon quickly snuggles up to Martin's side and attempts to hide his face.

"So, um, I'm not actually sure how well I can explain this? I don't fully understand it myself but uh..." Martin laughs nervously. "Here goes nothing. So, sometimes Jon just sort of... gets like this. All childlike and cuddly. And uh, when he does, I take care of him. Sorta. I try to, at least." Jon peeks out a bit, and Martin smiles down at him.

"Interesting." Sasha says. "So he's like a little kid?"

Martin nods. "Basically."

Tim turns his attention to Jon, who surprisingly returns his gaze rather than trying to hide.

"Jon, can I ask you something?" Tim asks. Jon nods slowly.

"Are you an age regressor?" 

Jon's eyes widen at the question, but he gives another nod. 

"Oh! I think I've heard of that!" Sasha adds. Martin, however, tilts his head in curiosity. "What's that?" He asks.

"Age regression, it's a coping mechanism where someone reverts to a younger age. Helps with stress, anxiety, trauma, all that stuff. I actually have an ex who regresses, I used to take care of him." Tim explains it all quickly, with Sasha nodding along.

Jon seems to relax quite a lot at this. He's still clinging to Martin, but any urge to hide or run off has melted away. Martin, too, has relaxed. Not only are Tim and Sasha okay with this, but they even know what it is. There's something relieving about finally having a name for what this is.

Martin let's out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in. "That's... Thank you guys."

"No problem." Tim gives one of his signature grins. "If you ever need some help taking care of him, I'd be happy to help. He seems a bit more skittish than my ex, but I do have a bit of experience after all."

Sasha nods. "Same here. I'm not very familiar with this sort of thing, but I'd love to help if I can."

Martin smiles wide, and turns to Jon. "How does that sound?"

Jon's eyes are wide and shining, his smile wide and warm enough that his joy is radiating off of him. Martin chuckles.

"I think he'd like that."

All four of them have work to do, they know that. But they don't care. They all squeeze onto the old couch and take turns giving Jon some well-deserved cuddles. Tim asks Martin questions about what Jon is like when he's regressed, and Martin gives what answers he can. Tim gives what advice he can on being a caregiver and shares any useful information on regression that he can think of. Sasha asks them both plenty of questions, occasionally distracted into cooing at Jon when he's being cute (which is always). And Jon doesn't mind that they're all talking about him, because he knows they're here to take care of him.

And for a few moments, everything is okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes a family is a baby Archivist and his three assistants/caregivers, all on a shitty old couch.
> 
> To anyone who has written any age regression content for this fandom: I have read your fic, and I love you.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated :]


End file.
